Spider's Bane
by Griddlebone
Summary: Short stories, focusing on Naraku and Kikyou.
1. Dire Intent

She was his. She might think otherwise, in that haughty way of hers, but she was wrong.

_Kikyou_ was wrong.

It filled him with glee. She was here, helpless and insolent at once, but inescapably at his disposal. The woman who had always eluded him... could not avoid him now.

As he left her, secure in the knowledge that she was his prisoner and could not escape his grasp, Naraku smiled. Her presence made him want to do wicked things.

He would make her crave the freedom of death's oblivion. And he would grant her that freedom, someday.

But first she would submit to his will... he would make her watch him complete the Shikon no Tama and taint it with his dark will, watch him finally banish that damnable Onigumo from his heart, watch as she lost her hold on him forever.

Only then would he kill her. It was _his_ will, not Onigumo's, that she be allowed to live... for now.

And he had already begun to achieve he goal - even now his barrier kept her soul catchers at bay, rendering her helpless, immobile. Her strength and her knowledge of his true identity made her a dangerous captive, but he already knew that she would be useful to him.

After all, she could detect shards of the Shikon Jewel. And that hanyou, Inuyasha, would be drawn to her no matter where she went. His jewel shards were as good as Naraku's.

And all through his mental wanderings there was Onigumo's heart, the weakness throbbing inside him, each heartbeat whispering that there were other ways to use Kikyou.

Naraku's smile only grew wider.


	2. Inner Universe

It's quiet and dark, this place where he lurks. Naraku likes it that way.

The darkness around him mirrors universe of swirling blacks and purples within his heart, colors which echo again in the jewel he holds in his hand. But even as his deepest heart is not so perfectly foul as he might wish, its darkness tainted by the fleck of light that is his feelings for Kikyou, so too is that imperfection evident within the Shikon no Tama.

There's a speck of light inside, a shining ember that burns itself into his eye as he stares. He recognizes it for what it is, and wishes he could shatter the jewel again, dig out that festering bit of light and throw it away forever.

But it is what it is: indelible, ineffable, and inarguably _Kikyou_. It's her light that taints the perfect blackness of his Shikon no Tama, even now. And for that, he cannot wipe out that last bit of light... because it is Kikyou, his weakness once and always. Without her, he is nearly bereft of purpose.

She's been dead and gone twice, and she is still his motivation. Somehow, he craves the challenge she presents even though she is now dead. And he wonders, more eagerly than he would like, if she might somehow come to him a third time; the forbidden thought makes him shiver with unwanted delight.

The jewel will be complete soon. Only a single stray shard remains.

Naraku meditates, and knows what his wish will be.

Damnable woman...


	3. Endgame

It was a delicate game they played. Kikyou knew that from the start; she had known from the moment she saw him... known what he was, seen the spark of desire in his eyes when he looked upon her.

Indeed, it was his eyes that gave him away. Dark eyes, sick with wanting. Eyes that followed her every movement, betrayed his desire to corrupt all that she was and destroy everything she loved.

Yes, she knew what he wanted, and chose to deny him. She treated him with cold courtesy and contempt, knowing it only increased his impotent fury. To him, she was not a miko, but only a woman, at once revered and reviled.

What would become of her if she granted his wish? Would it end with her abasement, or not until he had extinguished the very life in her body?

At first, she was tempted... She wanted only to be an ordinary woman, but her role as a miko prevented such from ever being her reality. Perhaps in the next life, she might...

But now, she had found another way out: a young man who made her heart beat faster for an entirely different - and entirely more pleasant - reason.

Her plans were not a certain thing, and would not be until the deed was done. There was a chance they would fail, and that she would be stuck with the Shikon no Tama forever. And so, knowing full well the dangers, she continued to toy with Onigumo... her secret endgame.


	4. Abomination

Author's Note: This one is AU.

-x-

One foot in front of the other... again, and again. Creak, moan...

A simple movement, and yet so complex. It's becoming harder with each step.

One foot in front of the other... the sound of fired clay as it grinds against itself at every joint; she doesn't hear it. She feels it.

This body of hers is a strange thing. It has no need of air or food or sleep. And though it feels no pang of hunger or pall of exhaustion, she knows it is wearing out.

This body, the abomination. A vessel of clay, powered by incomprehensible combinations of gears and springs. And it is filled to the brim with the soul of a hateful woman, bound by stolen lives. Souls given up as unwillingly as hers.

Kikyou pauses.

She is a creature forged by hatred. It blossoms before her and in each footprint she leaves.

One foot in front of the other... Creak, moan, _twang -_

Something inside has snapped. How much longer until this body no longer functions?

She must see clearly, for her time grows dangerously short. Who is responsible? Who does she hate most? Is it the witch that corrupted her, the man who betrayed her love, or the one that plays them all to obtain the Shikon no Tama?

She closes clay eyes, and sees only one face: Onigumo, called Naraku. She hates everyone, yes, and everything, too. But she hates him most of all, for ensuring that she cannot simply lay aside this revenant life. For that, he will die.


	5. Clash

Eyes meet: rich brown clashes against deepest, foulest black. Their gazes are locked, and the tension grows with every passing second, spiraling upward to dizzying heights.

Who will falter first? Whose strength will give way under the strain?

The advantage is his, he thinks. He could smite her where she stands, cracking open that clay body like a bone to get at the marrow within. She is weak and breakable, and in this place she stands at his mercy.

The advantage is hers, she thinks. For he does not know her purpose here, only that she can slip whatever bonds he sets on her with ease, and that her very touch can destroy him.

A smile touches her lips, and Kikyou reveals her plan – and herself. She drops a huge fragment of the Shikon no Tama at his feet.

_Take it_, she urges silently, _it's what you've always wanted._

It is not true, but he takes the bait. It seems too good an opportunity to pass up, just as she planned. Now all she has to do is wait.

_Take the jewel, Onigumo. And when you hold it complete in your hand, I will end it – and _you.


	6. Depraved

The cavern is quiet and dark, and smells overwhelmingly like damp earth. This refuge is little more than a hole in the earth, altogether like a grave. But it is where they can be alone. Alone, and depraved.

He, the wounded thief. And she, priestess and begrudging caretaker.

Kikyou leans over to press herself against him; his scorched and scarred flesh burns anew at her slightest touch.

Her eyes, so deep, filled to the brim with condescension and loathing, meet his in a silent plea.

_Defile me._

Onigumo closes his eyes and breathes deep. This close her scent is strong and intoxicating, the torment now is that he cannot move to do as she asks, as his nature demands.

He opens his eyes again and sees empty air; it was only a dream.

Perhaps only half a dream, he thinks, his rage near to the boiling point and yet still so utterly impotent. For although she is gone, the memory of her presence lingers still. He need only close his eyes to see her again.

The line between them is drawn, but it will take only a single step to cross it. Their wills are evenly matched, for now, but that single step will determine which of them dominates and forces the other into submission.

He wants to see her bend and break and beg for her own destruction as she does in his dreams.

If only he could move...


	7. Silent Observer

A pair of dark eyes watches, intrigued and almost amused, as the priestess confronts the hanyou. There is a flash of light, like something out of a fairy tale: an arrow imbued with a miko's power, drawn and fired in the blink of an eye.

Just that quickly, the hanyou is defeated, bound and broken; he'll dream forever upon that tree, the miko's sacred arrow through his heart. And the priestess... she will die of her wounds, that much is clear even at a great distance. This betrayal of trust is no more than they deserve - she and her disgusting hanyou lover.

He would have given up his demonic power to be with her, had fate not intervened.

_Look_, Onigumo - no, _Naraku_ - sneers silently, as much to himself as to the demons that now share his psyche, _see how she binds him so effortlessly._

A voice bubbles forth from within: just as she binds you...

The sudden thought - intrusive and undesired - causes him to choke, his face purpling with anger.

_He is weak, so pathetically attached to that human woman. He is_ nothing _like me._

Laughter, like murk in a stagnant pond: he is _exactly_ like you...


	8. Schism

If he were an optimistic man, he would consider this a second chance. But Naraku is neither optimistic nor, particularly, much of a man. He has found a new way of looking at things these past years, his body infused with a demon's strength and stamina. There is patience in knowing one is not limited only to a brief, mortal span of years.

So instead of pondering the luck of a man once scorned, he watches and plots, and considers this a second chance... not to win the heart of the woman who had once so thoroughly ensnared his (not his! Onigumo's! some part of him tiredly protests), but to destroy her. And completely, this time.

The Kikyou that walks the land now is but a shadow of the original anyway, nothing but clay and graveyard soil holding in what remains of hatred and pride. Most of what was Kikyou is irrevocably gone, no matter how talented the witch that brought her back.

This Kikyou will be easier to destroy, although perhaps less satisfying.

He can see the cracks, tiny but just visible, in that clay body of hers. Just as surely, he can see the cracks where her psyche has been pieced together. Naraku thinks of his new body, demon powerful and malleable with it, and wonders what it would be like to squeeze himself into the infinitesimal space between those cracked pieces of clay... to prise her apart from her very core and watch as she fades forever.


	9. Cruel Contempt

He is darkness, and she is light. It is hatred, the culmination of all their many differences, that binds them. And at the same time it is the fiercest, most powerful attraction that either has ever known. In is inescapable and intoxicating at once, setting each chance encounter on edge with fervent anticipation.

They play at avoiding one another, but the real thrill is in the conflict. Neither can stand to stay apart for long.

Although he spends most of his days alone, forming subtle plans that destroy lives even as they further his own ambitions, he can tell when she is near. And she is near now, oh so near.

He takes in the sight of her, breathes her name like a prayer.

She has nothing for him but a contemptuous smile. Even that small gesture ignites a fire inside him, a consuming desire for that which he cannot have, that which is so different from everything that he is. With a single look she elicits feelings from him where nothing else can, where perhaps nothing should. He wants, oh how he wants.

It would be foolish to think she is ignorant of the effect she has on him. She knows, full well. And she leaves him anyway, knowing that her fleeting presence has left him horribly aroused and aching to take her - or tear her apart.

It pleases him.

He can see the taint, the willing cruelty, in that smile.

They are not so different, after all.


	10. Fester Love

He is not alone; when he wakens from his sleep, she is there. Pale and pure, almost shining in the gloom, Kikyou regards him with deep dark eyes.

He aches, and only she can stop the hurt. But now he knows that he can have her. He will have her and use her up and toss her aside, and the endless agonizing needing will finally stop.

Demons, sated by the feast they have made of his festering soul, have given him strength like he has never known before. He feels it coiled within him, like some great and foul predator ready to pounce. The man who was Onigumo gives a wicked grin - defy me now, woman! - and reaches for her.

But his fingers pass through her as if he has tried to hold onto a ghost. Her image distorts and fades, and he is left grasping at the dark shards of a dream.


	11. In Shadow

The forest was quiet and still, the filtered light from the overcast sky turning blazing autumn colors into soft grays and browns. Beneath her feet the ground was soft and pliable, carpeted by whispering leaves, and the air around her was thick with moisture and the scent of decaying foliage. For once it did not bother her that she could not breathe deep the scent of the forest, or that ghostly white soul catchers drifted in the air around her.

For once she felt serene, her mind at ease. In her solitude, Kikyou felt almost as if she were not a blasphemy made flesh. Now that she paused to consider it, she had not felt so calm since she had first been laid to rest. And that was no accident.

Urasue had restored her to life as she had been in her final moments - a distorted shade of the Kikyou that had been, composed only of hatred and vindictiveness where there once had been so much more. As she picked her way among the trees, following an unseen path, Kikyou thought back across the days of her new life and the faintest semblance of a smile played across her lips.

She had walked in shadow for so long that she almost had not noticed it. In spite of the best efforts of her enemies, the rest of her soul had come creeping back in to fill the empty spaces in this clay body and make her spirit whole again. Somewhere on this lonely road, she had begun to feel compassion again, and understanding. And, she realized grimly, it was these long-absent emotions that would be her downfall.

Kikyou did not pause; her steps never faltered. Even though this form might soon perish, she knew that her end would only be a new beginning.


	12. The Arrow's Mark

Kikyou pauses to run a finger along the shaft of her arrow before nocking it to her bow and drawing back the string; she has not enchanted it, and feels only mundane wood beneath her fingertip.

She is alone in the forest. There is no threat. But in her mind's eye she sees her enemy before her, Naraku's mocking, laughing face. She pulls the bowstring back and back until she can feel the phantom strain in her arms. Her lips turn down in a scowl as she takes her careful aim and imagines the flight of the arrow, and the satisfaction she will feel when at last that glowing arrow finds its mark in Naraku's heart.

Without firing she lets the string go slack and lowers her arrow. Carefully she places it back in her quiver with the rest of its brethren. She has only a few arrows left. Even more precious still is her energy. It seeps from her clay body as water might leak from a cracked pot, and she will need as much as she can muster to achieve her goal. She has only a little time left in which to find Naraku and end his miserable existence.

She does not consider what might happen to her after his death, and there is no room in her mind for thoughts of failure. She only thinks, sure of both her skill and infallibility, that when the moment of confrontation finally comes, she will be ready.


	13. Obsessive Devotion

She has cast a spell on him. As the days and months have passed since Kikyou's resurrection, Naraku has become more and more certain of it. There is no other explanation for the unfailing fixation, the unyielding obsession.

Kikyou was never the pure-hearted woman that she pretended to be. Even before her rebirth, she was a wicked woman, more witch than miko. That she would ensorcel him again in her second life seems only natural to him.

The only way to break the spell is to kill her. When she died he became free, and lived fifty years with scarcely a thought of her; since her return he has felt the shackles closing ever more tightly around him.

He dreams of her, dying of the wounds he inflicted. He sees it as clearly as if he were standing there beside her, and a part of him rails against it. That part of him, once discarded and long suppressed, churns with anguish to think that the object of its devotion will finally meet her end.

Despite the emotional tempest, Naraku remains outwardly calm. He has won. Kikyou will die this night.

But she will die in the arms of another man, and he cannot fight the black rage and the vicious jealousy that wash over him at the thought. He has achieved his great victory, but his wretched desires remain unchanged.

In death she has unveiled the truth: there was never any spell, only the yearning of a human heart.


End file.
